


one more time no feelings

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, no enthusiastic consent but no dub con either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: for the kinkmeme prompt:During the timeskip Felix meets a knight who at first glance mistakes him for Glenn. The knight was deeply in love with him, but his feelings were not reciprocated. It feels like a miracle to him to meet "Glenn" again and he asks/begs Felix to let him fuck him to finally find some closure.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Glenn Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12
Collections: Anonymous





	one more time no feelings

**Author's Note:**

> link to the prompt: https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=1577948#cmt1577948
> 
> don't be fooled the sex isn't very sexy

Felix isn’t a grave keeper.

He does not wander the paths of the dead, string tombstones around his neck and wallow in his mourning. He doesn’t do any of that, because Felix is part of the living and knows how to act like it. The pain, the hurt, the inevitable grief are all things he has long buried right next to his family’s ghosts. And Felix isn’t a grave keeper.

* * *

When the war broke out and the monastery was abandoned, Felix returned to Faerghus where his blade was needed. He did what he had prepared to do for more than half his life: he fought. Fhirdiad still fell, Dimitri with it. Maybe that opened yet another crack in Felix’s heart, an invisible wound he’d willingly overlook and forget about. The inevitable order to retreat back to Fraldarius is contested by many, but Rodrigue is firm in his decision to abandon the young prince to his fate and follows through with it. Felix cannot understand it, the wild, untamed corner of his heart begging to ask why _now_ the lives of soldiers are more important than Dimitri’s. But rationally he knows – this war is going to last. Retreating is their best chance to survive in the long term.

Two grueling years pass before the news of Dimitri’s execution spread. It is not quite guilt Felix feels upon hearing it. War, the little he’d seen of it, numbed his heart and hardened his resolve to keep fighting no matter what. Instead, the small naive part of him feels like the thirteen years old boy he had once been, wondering _why_ , why them and not him.

Dimitri had died, once. He dies a second time. Felix had to learn to trust only his instincts, once. He does it again, and leaves his father’s troops in the imperial year 1183.

* * *

“Put that down, you’re not allowed to fuck around with it.”

Felix jumps, his grip clenching around the sword before going slack and putting it back in its place. He sighs, still looking at the beautifully decorated armor and polished sword with envy. “Rodrigue says you’re not allowed to use that word around me.” He points out.

Glenn comes up next to him, picking back up the sword as if to mock Felix. “Yeah well, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.” He smirks.

Felix crosses his arms. “Then surely you can let me swing it around a bit.” Glenn hums, not acknowledging Felix for a moment. He does this to annoy Felix, and somehow it works every time. “Com’on, I’ll never even get to touch it once you’re knighted.”

That gets Glenn to look at him. He looks like he considers it, and knowing him Felix is pretty sure he’ll give in soon. Instead, he keeps the sword to himself. “Still no. Go get your own sword though, I want to see how much progress you’ve made.” Before Felix can protest, Glenn pats his head. “See you on the training ground.”

Ten minutes later, they’re indeed swinging swords and exchanging blows. Of course, Felix is on the bad end of most attacks. It’ll take him years if not decades to one day surpass Glenn’s skill. But at this exact moment, he’s absolutely happy. Glenn is completing his training more intensely than ever, meaning Felix doesn’t see him as much as he used to, or wishes to. That will not get any better once the knighting ceremony approaches. So, Felix does the only thing he can – enjoys his brother’s presence while he can.

And that is all that matters.

* * *

Felix roams the lands of newly renamed Dukedom of Faerghus, searching for someone that is no longer in a place where he can find him. He defends villages, asks questions, kill imperial spies. He tries not to dwell on the thought that it is hope helping him push through everything. He cannot admit it, even to himself. Like during the rebellion, that fateful day, he locks his heart with a key he cannot bring himself to throw away forever.

It matters little. The fights are the same, so is the reality of war, and Felix hones his skills. The living are the living.

* * *

Whenever Glenn fights, Felix cannot help but think this must be the most beautiful thing in the world. Reducing Glenn’s talent to his swordsmanship would be an insult. He excels in everything, arrows always hitting their targets, lance piercing through anything and fists more punishing than anything else. Glenn makes it look like an art, and himself an ever improving artist.

Felix knows he’ll forever try to reach that level, and eventually win against his brother. He’ll know no rest until that day comes.

* * *

Felix knows – he’s technically a deserter. His father could have send soldiers to find him, or come to the rightful conclusion that Felix will only return when he feels like it, and nothing will change that. In any case, soldiers even from Fraldarius or any other part of the remaining free lands will be given the order to notify the duke of any possible sightings of his son.

That should be reason enough for Felix to turn around, and set course to the next village when he notices the distinctive Fraldarius blazon on the armor of the horses. He doesn’t. He is tired, having fought a group of bandits earlier, and wishes for a bed tonight.

Then there is the second reason – he needs to know how his father is holding up. Opportunities to hear about the front lines are lacking at best, and lies spread faster than the truth. He wants – or rather needs – to hear that his land is still holding up, that his father is okay.

With that in mind, he books a night at the only inn of the town. He does not have to look for long before he finds the soldiers – some drinking, some chatting in the main room farther into the inn. Once Felix has made sure his horse will be taken care of, that his room is secure and his bags safe he follows the noise and arrives in the too-crowded room.

It’s almost hard to remember they are at war, when Felix sees the smiles on their faces. He does not allow himself to linger and strides into the din. Faces turn, people eye him with curiosity or suspicion. Felix scans the room, failing to find what he’s looking for, and settles for the next best thing.

He picks a random soldier, approaching them probably a bit too sternly. “Hey.” He says, trying to get their attention. His friends elbow them, and finally they turn around.

A brown fringe almost hide his eyes, but Felix can see them widen all the same. There’s a loaded pause. The entire table has gone quiet, the others around them following suit all too quickly. Felix doesn’t like the attention.

Maybe he’s been recognized already. The knowing gaze in the soldier’s eye would make much more sense. Felix tries again. “Who’s your superior? I need a talk.”

That jerks the man back into motion, he scratches his throat, sounding loud in the quietening room. “Huh, well, you’re talking to him right now. What’s it you want to talk about?”

Felix squints at the man’s unkempt appearance, doubting that heavily. Maybe Fraldarius men have simply fallen really low. At least, it doesn’t seem he has been recognized already. It’s only a matter of time. “Privately.” He adds, eager to get out of this place.

There are a few whistles that die out quickly. It’s once again silent. The soldier never stops looking at Felix, wonder mixed with suspicion. Felix doesn’t know what to make of that. Eventually, the soldier stands up. “Okay. Show me the way.”

Some of his comrades look surprised, some going as far as whispering _what_ , or _no way_. Felix pays them no mind and turns back on his heels. He doesn’t look back to see if the soldier follows him, trusting that he will. He makes it outside, the footsteps catching up with him and stopping too.

“It’s not going to take long.” Felix states. “Tell me about the Duke. How are the front lines.”

There’s a nervous giggle, that Felix attributes to alcohol more than anything. “You know you awfully sound like an imperial spy right?” Felix glares, preparing his answer but the man keeps going. “But you – don’t look like one. You look… Well. Never mind. Why do care how the Duke’s doing?”

Felix raises an eyebrow, wondering what exactly the soldier held back from saying. If he’s recognized Felix but tries to hide it, he’s doing a pretty poor job. “Cause that’s a citizen’s duty.” He replies sarcastically. “Just answer. You’re a – what? What’s your rank?”

Once again, the man only stares, seeing something Felix definitely doesn’t. If he has figured it out, Felix would love if they got that out of the way and just have his answers. Instead, the soldier shakes his head. “Proud knight of Faerghus, actually. But you – you’re not just any citizen, right?”

Felix stiffens, bracing himself for what’s coming. “What.”

The soldier shrugs, but his demeanor turns serious. Felix can see him clearly sobering up. “You look like you could be one too. You know, a knight.” He studies Felix’s face for any reaction, and Felix gives himself away – the implications alone unsettle him. “So I was right. You look like you could swing a sword. And – you look like a knight I once knew.”

Felix has heard this too many times to miss the subtext, or who exactly the soldier is referring too. He has the beginning of an answer now: the knight hasn’t recognized him, but his dead brother. Like a corpse rising from its grave to continue playing games with the living. Felix’s features scrunch up. “So fucking what. Just answer my questions.”

The man _laughs_ , as if Felix insulting him was particularly funny. Felix feels insulted, but keeps his own mouth shut. “Yeah, of course, sorry.” He breathes in and out a few times, then he looks once again all too serious. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is but I want to indulge you. But the thing is, a big battle was supposed to happen two days ago and our messenger’s late. Fraldarius is in deep shit, but the Duke’s still alive. Can’t tell you more than that.” Felix frowns, not so happy with the news. If there really has been a major battle like that, it could easily turn the tides in anyone’s favor. The knight reads it on his face, and gets a bit closer than he had been seconds earlier. “If you wait around, I can keep you updated. You look exhausted.”

Felix takes a step back. “Whatever. If I need you, I’ll find you.” He says, hoping to end this conversation.

The knight stops him before he can walk away, grabbing his arm. “Wait, do you want to join us? On me. Eat, drink all you want.”

“No.” He retracts his arm, hoping the knight will get the hint.

He does not, and closes the distance between them, looking more desperate. “Okay then – warm my bed tonight.”

Felix almost recoils in horror. He cannot possibly believe he just heard – “ _What_?”

“Warm my bed.” The knight confirms, the perfect picture of seriousness. “You’re, well, you’re fucking gorgeous and we all need all comfort we can get. I’m sure you understand.”

“I –” _Don’t_ , Felix almost says, before realizing that it’s not true. When was the last time he held someone and it wasn’t for the sole purpose of killing them? Maybe he does understand. The proposal still rubs him the wrong way. “Are you insane? Do I look like I’d agree to – that?” He nearly snarls, outraged.

The knight smiles in response. Felix thinks he wants to punch that face. “You don’t, actually. And look, I don’t want to make this weird, but that knight I was referring to? He’s got the same temper, so I feel like I kind of know you too. And yeah, you’d never in a thousand years agree, but at least I got you _considering_ it. Can’t deny that, can you?”

Felix’s first instinct is to feel offended. But he finds that he cannot deny it, and therefore the knight has every right to gloat. However, his words about Glenn are what preoccupy him the most. He didn’t know his brother had any close acquaintances in the knight order. Letting the second part slide, he asks about the first. “So you really knew that knight.”

The knight doesn’t hide his surprise, having probably expected another retort about their potential affair. “Oh? I mean, I guess everybody knew Sir Glenn. Would surprise me if you didn’t. But we were – well, not even friends I suppose.”

Felix stands there, watching the knight from head to toes, wondering why the hell he’s never heard of this dude. Glenn wasn’t one to keep secrets. Even in the late years of his life when he rarely ever got time to meet with Felix, he made sure to retell all of his adventures. He never talked about his friends – Felix had known he didn’t have any, without asking.

To hear someone speak about Glenn in that manner, it intrigues Felix. Then comes his choice: not pushing it, declining the knight’s offer, and willingly forget about this turn of their conversation and go to sleep. Or, gladly take up a ghost’s invitation for a short lived game.

Felix looks back at the lonely years he’s spent fighting, then forward at the knight’s face. He makes his choice. “How so?”

There’s a glint screaming _I won_ in the knight’s eyes. He sighs, makes a show of wrapping his arms around himself. “It’s getting cold, don’t you think? I’d love to tell you all you want about Sir Glenn, maybe we can do so in my bedroom?”

Felix doesn’t agree because it’s cold.

* * *

There are two separate beds in the knight’s room at the inn. It doesn’t take long to notice his presumed roommate for the night’s own stuff lying around. In war time, it seems even the knights sacrifice their comfort for practicability. Felix catches glimpses of an armor, carefully put away, and what seems to a sword. The knight had time to sit on his bed, and looks at Felix expectantly. Felix sits on the other bed, defiant. “So.” He starts, prompting the knight to continue where they’ve left off.

“So,” The knight continues knowingly. “Glenn was like a huge jerk.” Felix keeps his face carefully guarded, but privately smiles to himself. That much he knows. “Always bitching about our orders and whoever gave them, cause he knew he’d get away with it. It’s Glenn you know, he’d fulfill his duty all the same. He was – arrogant, maybe. No one ever liked him.” He shrugs, not really looking at Felix. “It was fun to get under his skin though. Kept trying til he snapped. Which, by the way, he always did. Fun times.” He chuckles. Felix can’t help thinking it almost sounds bittersweet. “I don’t think he found any of that funny though. Still, I always made sure to tease him once or twice a day. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Felix lets that sink it. Glenn, it seems, was much better at hiding secrets and enhancing the truth than he gave him credit for. So much Felix should have known, so much he never will, so much left forgotten. He nods. It’s exactly what he’d been dreading – wanting to hear. Then he looks back with a challenge. “Do I look arrogant to you?”

The knight smirks, leaning back suggestively on his bed. “Com’on, get here and I’ll tell you.”

Felix hesitates – and knows how futile that is. He made his choice the second he stepped into that room. He does as he’s asked, and straddles the knight with more confidence than he feels. “Do you want to tease me too?” He dares the knight to confirm, wondering if his lust doesn’t run deeper than Felix had assumed.

The look of wonder in the knight’s eyes is answer enough, the hands traveling to Felix’s waist another confirmation. “Goddess. Yeah.”

Felix doesn’t know where to put his hands. The shameful truth is: he’s ever been touched that way by anyone else before. He never had the time – war and its endless stream of battles made sure of that. He jerks himself off in the morning when he can, but that’s where his experiences stop. This knight, on the other hand, seems to know where he’s going. Felix trusts that, trusts him, and puts his hands behind the man’s neck, holding his head. “Did you fight with him often?”

The knight blinks, oh so focused on Felix’s face. “Huh, yeah. We were usually assigned to the same battalion. We were lucky, he was – so extraordinarily talented.”

Felix lets a smile slip out. “I know.” He tentatively comes closer, until his torso is glued to the knight’s.

He expects the knight to encourage this, maybe reach down or simply grope Felix, but he does none of that. His eyes widen in understanding, his grip loosening all too quickly. “Wait – you’re… You’re his brother?” Felix withdraws his hands. That realization was bound to happen, he hoped it would be later. “Fuck, I’m so stupid – you’re Felix Hugo Fraldarius?” Felix doesn’t dignify him with an answer. They both acknowledge this as true. “Fuck.” The knight repeats, looking at Felix in a new light. Felix’s growing discomfort makes him pull away and stand up completely. “Wait, I – I want this. So bad.”

Felix huffs. “I know. You wanted to jump my brother’s bones so bad you were okay with getting the lesser version instead.”

The knight has the decency to look abashed, shortly, before his expression turns accusatory. “You weren’t exactly complaining either.”

It’s Felix’s turn to feel ashamed, and angry at himself. For what? Wanting to indulge in reviving a long lost memory? To feel, for a few minutes, what it felt to be a genius like his brother? At least they’ve succeeded in this: the mood is ruined. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says, still needing the info, and knowing his own damn room is not so far from there. He leaves before the knight can reply anything else.

* * *

Felix knows he shouldn’t turn this into a habit – he slips out of his bed anyway, in direction of the training grounds. He doesn’t know if Rodrigue would scold him for being impatient, or reward him for his hard work. The sort of praise only Glenn gets. But Felix isn’t a child anymore, and he’s nowhere near Glenn’s level at his age. So he’ll train, at night if he has to.

He exhausts himself out until he can barely stand, and makes silent work of putting away his sword and walking to the kitchen for a glass of fresh water.

That’s where he meets Glenn, helping himself with food, silent as a spy. They both stare at each other in the dark, uncertain of who they’re seeing. When Felix finally recognize his brother, he stops himself from running up to hug him. When Glenn does, he eagerly sets down his meal in order to join Felix.

Felix speaks first. “When did you get back?”

Glenn hesitates, but pats Felix’s head. “You’ve grown so much.” He withdraws, faster than he used to. “Just now. Wanted to wait until morning to see you.”

“Or slip out once you’ve talked to Rodrigue.” Felix counters, hating himself immediately for the bite in his tone. He sighs. He just wants to be glad to see Glenn. “I’m sorry.”

Glenn shakes his head. “No, it’s me who’s sorry. I… haven’t really been fair to you. I’ll be there in the morning, I swear.”

Felix knows he isn’t lying: Glenn always keeps his promises. He gives a small smile. “Good. Save some energy for a dual too, yeah?” He asks, a bit too hopeful.

To his surprise, it doesn’t take long for Glenn to agree. “Count on that. Now, I probably don’t want to know why you reek so bad, go to bed already.”

That night, Felix sleeps better than he has in weeks.

* * *

Felix doesn’t get much sleep. That’s the problem once you’ve provoked the dead, they like to stick around and populate your dreams. Felix left that door half closed, and now he sees the face Glenn made the day before he died, he hears the last words he’s told Felix, he feels his own tears trying to break through, but Felix does not let them. Felix touches these memories with the tip of his fingers, and draws them back when the overwhelming presence is too much.

Glenn was great. Glenn was the firstborn, perfect, betrothed, knighted, talented. Glenn was everything that was expected of him, and everything Felix will never be. Glenn believed – believed in Faerghus, in his king, in himself. Glenn, in this war, would have – would have stayed by his father’s side, would’ve _helped_ , and –

Felix is alive. Felix survived. Felix is here now, in this inn, hands clenching the sheets.

Glenn is dead.

* * *

Felix barges into the room, ignoring the other sleepy form to address the knight. “Spar with me. Maybe I’ll reconsider.”

Maybe hangover, definitely not a morning person, the knight blinks a few times before nodding.

Felix waits for him outside, then leads them somewhere they won’t be interrupted into the woods.

The knight didn’t bother with his armor, merely dragging a sword and worn out shield. Felix does not comments on that.

“My headache is awful, go easy on me okay?” The knight asks once they’re in position. His stance isn’t bad, but Felix has trained with Fraldarius soldiers too many times not to identify immediately where his weaknesses will lie.

This fight is already won, but he will not show any mercy. “Would Glenn have?”

“No, probably not.” The knight concedes. It is rather obvious the idea is enough to motivate him, Glenn’s memory once inviting itself, sweet and unforgiving.

It’s a game. “Then don’t expect anything else.”

The knight doesn’t manage to surprise Felix with his moves, another copy of the faceless soldiers trained for war from a young age. True to his word, it takes no less than five minutes for Felix to disarm his opponent, and have him yield, helpless on the ground. The fight isn’t any less satisfying, and the look of wonder in the knight’s gaze is worth all the trouble to get there. “Fuck, you’re so strong.”

Felix smirks, using his blade to taunt the knight. “Oh yeah? Look at yourself, didn’t even put up a challenge. Wasting my time.”

From the ground where he lies, the knight offers an equally smug smile. “I’m certainly no match for you. Your skill is unquestionable.”

That, more than their fight, leaves Felix breathless. It seems the knight will not be standing up any time soon, Felix disregards his sword quickly before offering a hand. “I aim for greatness.”

The knight looks at the hand, hesitating. Eventually, he claps it, but instead of going up brings Felix down. Felix would have had time to counter it, but chooses not to and ends up stuck between the ground and the knight’s body. “Goddess,” The knight says, reverent. “One and the same.”

His hand cradles Felix’s cheek, and that’s the only warning he gets before thin, dry lips crash on his own. Felix is too surprised to do anything about it, forgetting this is supposed to feel good. When it catches up with him, he pushes the knight away. “Why.” He nearly whispers, loud enough to be heard by the knight. “Why him. You said – he was a jerk.”

The knight hums, letting his hands wander across Felix’s clothed form. “Difficult to say. I guess I wanted to rid his face of his forever scowling, I’m-so-much-better-than-you expression. Break that facade. We all wished for that.” He kisses Felix’s neck, goes up to his face and expertly avoids his mouth. They stare. And Felix thinks he sees anger, but mostly sorrow in that gaze. The strange mix almost makes him look away. “You have the same look, you know. Same self satisfied confidence.”

Felix has looked in a mirror before, for hours on end, trying every angle, every expression, to finally make sense of the ‘ _you look just like him_ ’ words thrown back at him so often. He never succeeded. In that mirror, he saw a shallow copy, a distorted image, but never Glenn. Never Felix either. “What are you going to do about it.”

The knight’s expression turns mischievous, and he leans once again to whisper near Felix’s ear. “Would love to suck you off. Okay for you?”

Felix considers it, calculating their chances of getting caught out there. Slim. He rolls his eyes. “Fine.” He lifts his hips tentatively, trying to press their lower halves together. The knight smiles at the attempt, pining Felix back down and finally lowering his hands to unlace Felix’s pants. He takes too much time, annoying Felix into helping him with it. He makes quick work of bringing his pants and underclothes mid thigh. He’s sporting a good semi hard now, the knights stops to stare at it. “What.” Felix huffs.

The knight nods, then shakes his head, looking as confused as Felix. “It’s – never thought I’d get this far, actually. Nice cock.”

Felix is tempted to punch him, once again. Thankfully, he suppresses the urge and brings his own hand down there. “You’re useless.”

The knight is quick to stop him. “No wait, let me.” He pushes away Felix’s, and brings his naked hand to Felix’s dick. It’s new, and weird, and Felix feels himself growing harder anyway. He brings his gaze back to the knight’s face, only to find the other had done the same. They don’t break eye contact – Felix thinks the knight probably should, but he doesn’t. “You know, Glenn, he… he mentioned you, once or twice.” Felix sucks in a breath. “He rarely ever talked about himself, or whatever else. So, he must have really cared about you.” Felix chickens out, and looks away. That gets the knight to snicker. “Yeah. Like that. You probably cared about him too, right? Or have you been jealous your whole life?”

His building pleasure is interrupted by a sudden rage, surprising him by its intensity. “I am _not_ –”

The knight must have anticipated that, and backtracks immediately. “Alright, yeah, you’re not. Don’t worry.” Felix seethe, but the hand stroking him changes its pace, turning his anger into a guttural moan. “You look so good, you know that? Easily beats all the faces I’ve seen Glenn doing.”

Felix lifts his hips again, this time in an uncontrolled manner. He knows – he knows he’ll never beat Glenn. Never in a dual, never in anything, for the sole reason that Glenn is dead. Now he realizes, his dead brother’s ghost joining them, that this isn’t a game. Rather, it’s a dance, and his another chance. Another form of art, and maybe, Felix will allow himself to imagine that this once – he can still beat Glenn.

“Yeah?” He encourages the knight. “How good.”

The knight rests his forehead on Felix’s, sounding like he just ran for hours. “Fuck. So, so good. You’re everything I’ve dreamed of. I mean it.”

Felix smirks. He feels himself getting close, and uses his hand to push back the knight. “Make better use of that mouth.”

The knight nods eagerly, slowing down then completely stopping any of his previous ministrations. With a confidence Felix would probably not have, he lowers his head, kisses all the skin he finds then licks and sucks Felix’s dick with little hesitation.

It occurs to Felix that it is is now, and there, that he’s losing his virginity. Distantly he can see Sylvain’s amused face, should he ever know about it. He never made it a secret of how early he had lost his own, and boasted about every new sexual achievement he’d attain. Felix thinks now he’d made it sound easy, easier than it is. Sylvain also always added: Felix would never do it like him. He’d wait, find the right time, the right place, maybe even the right person. Felix knows there’s some truth in that.

Now, sprawling on the dirt, a faceless knight sucking his dick like it’s the most delicious he’s ever had, he realizes how imperfect it is. Felix wishes – had wished for the levels of comfort Sylvain described. It feels foolish even to him, to attach so much sentiment to sex of all things. He can’t help it. He can’t help feeling like he deserves nothing more than what he gets.

Through this mess and conflicted feeling, he comes, spilling himself in the knight’s throat. It doesn’t last very long, and soon his softening dicks slips out of the knight’s mouth. The knight straightens up, getting to his knees to unlace his own pants and make a quick work of himself. Gracefully, he makes sure not to dirty Felix’s clothes before falling back down. “Fuck. Thanks, Gl –” He stops, as if suddenly remembering whose body he’s holding.

It makes Felix’s heat ache in a weird way. Tiredly, he concedes. “It’s fine.”

In a final effort, the knight comes to look at Felix’s face once more, looking absolutely knackered. “Can I… kiss you?”

Felix’s entire body and soul screams _no_. He answers. “Yeah.”

So the knight does, more sweetly than anything they’ve done so far. This time, Felix’s lips move against his, falling into an agreeable rhythm. The knight keeps his eyes closed the entire time. Felix thinks that he likes this. The war is unforgiving, but for in this instant and in this man’s comforting arms, Felix feels a little at peace. This is the little comfort he gets, and he will cherish its memory.

Eventually, the knight’s face come to rest in the crook of Felix’s neck. “I thought I hated him.” He confesses. His tone is nothing like what Felix has heard from him this far, gentle, wounded and vulnerable. “I still can’t believe that to this day I – I never knew I’d miss him like I do. But I do. So fucking much.”

Felix’s heart aches, but this time he knows why. He longs to see his brother again, to show him how much he’s grown this time, to tell him his fears and his hopes, to have once again his broad shoulders protecting him from this cold, hurtful world.

He wraps his arms around the knight, offering a semblance of compassion in his embrace. He does not weep, nor does the knight.

Then, he lets Glenn go. He moves away from the embrace, more than aware of the state of his pants, quickly fastening everything. The knight does not immediately move from the ground, but has to when one of his presumed comrade comes up to them running. He gets to his feet and his dick back into his trousers at light speed, under Felix’s amused gaze and the soldier’s embarrassed one. “Hum, yeah, sorry, you were looking for me?”

The soldier glances at Felix several times, before judging he’s free to speak around him. “The messenger just came back. We forget the bandits, we’re needed at the capital.”

Felix crosses his arms, displeased at the news. The knight not so much, looking like he’d expected as much. “Yeah, okay, we’re leaving after breakfast. Go inform everyone.”

Felix rolls his eyes, and speaks before the soldier goes away again. “What about that battle? What happened?”

The soldier takes a few more seconds to answer. “Huh, well big losses on both sides, as always. Still, they didn’t get a single feet of our territory.” Felix nods, dismissing the soldier.

Then it’s only him and the knight. Felix doesn’t spare him a single glance, picking up his sword. He has the info he needed, now he’ll probably head south and hear other versions of this story. He needs to keep going.

“Are you joining us?” The knight asks, when Felix has stopped expecting it.

“What?”

“For breakfast.” He sounds happy, hopeful maybe.

Felix has had enough of that. “No, I need to get going.” He states.

The knight doesn’t push it, but walks in tandem with him. “Okay.” They walk back to the inn in silence. There, a few soldiers wave at the knight knowingly, snickering. The knight ignores them, and accompanies Felix to his room. They reach it, and stop. Felix makes no move to get inside, waiting for the knight to talk. Silence stretches awkwardly, until it becomes unbearable and the knight pulls them out of their misery. “You sure you don’t want to… hang out, walk with us to the capital? Duke’s orders are to let you do as you please, but he’s probably dying to see you well and alive.”

“No.” Felix simply says.

“You’re not going to ask my name?”

Then, Felix realizes it never came up. He really lost his virginity to some guy whose name he didn’t even know. He longer cares. “No.”

The knight is visibly disappointed. Felix wants to scream at him this, whatever it is, meant nothing. They both knew that. Still, the knight adds. “It’s Claude, in case you’re curious anyway.”

That makes Felix recall not so old memories. He nearly smiles. What a common name indeed. “Well, _Claude_ , farewell.” He does not wait for the answer this time, and locks himself in his room.

He travel light, and is ready to depart not long after. The knight is gone by then, and Felix rides alone.

He get away from the village, afraid to look back. Afraid of what transpired there, of the ghost trailing him.

But Felix Hugo Fraldarius does not live in fear. He looks back anyway, shutting the door once more, keeping the key close to his heart. The path behind him belongs to the dead now, and Felix keeps on living. He might indulge in fantasies, what ifs and lost memories, and even like it for a while, but he always comes back to the lonely road.

Felix isn’t a grave keeper.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
